


Colloiding

by micehell



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-27
Updated: 2005-08-27
Packaged: 2017-11-12 04:13:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/micehell/pseuds/micehell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smuggling and the naming of parts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Colloiding

"Ok, that's working."

Rodney found his progress through the rabbit-warren halls of SGC halted by the sound of the new major's voice. Well, he wasn't a new major, but he was the new major in Rodney's life. Not that he was really *in* Rodney's life, though Rodney wouldn't have objected if he were, but....

The distracted train of thought was derailed as he heard, "Yeah, right there. That's the ticket," in the somewhat nasal drawl that hit buttons Rodney hadn't even realized he had.

Which led to distractions of another variety. Part of Rodney's lightning fast brain actually took a moment to fully consider the implications of what he'd heard, determined to take the lack of context into consideration before making any determination on the subject matter. The rest of the brain, and at least one other organ, were too busy trying to imagine who Sheppard was having sex with to care.

Of course, he should just ignore what he'd heard, go on about his business, though Rodney had forgotten what it was for the moment, what with the distractions and all, and leave the major to his privacy. Or as much privacy as he could have in the long rows of small quarters with paper-thin walls.

Though if he did that, Rodney might never know if the major played on his side of the fence. It was definitely one of those tricky moral issues; were there places your curiosity shouldn't take you?

Rodney made a somewhat stealthy approach to the partially opened door of the major's quarters, peeking curiously through the narrow gap.

He couldn't see a thing. Which was probably a sign that he should have respected the major's privacy in the first place and that he should leave before anything else happened. Of course, once you'd adjusted your view of the universe to incorporate the Ancients, the Gou'ald, and Britney Spears, signs like that really lost their impact.

Rodney slowly pushed the door open further, keeping the speed down so as not to alert anyone inside. He needn't have bothered, as the major was alone, his back to the door, and he was far too intent on the hand down his pants to pay any attention, anyway.

Well, it explained what Rodney had heard, even if it didn't answer any questions about the man's sexuality. Beyond the fact that it included his right hand, but, really, who's didn't?

Before he could leave Sheppard to his special alone time, those thin hips started to gyrate, the hand down the pants causing the usually baggy material to draw close over a surprisingly nice ass, yet another in a seemingly endless stream of distractions the man created for Rodney.

In a particularly ungraceful move, and in demonstration of why most people at least sat when they did that sort of thing, the major stumbled, hip bouncing in a painful looking way off of the nightstand.

Sheppard hissed, and hopped around a moment, but the pain must not have been too bad, because when he came to rest facing the door, there was a tell-tale stain on the front of his pants, too glistening and viscous to be anything else but semen. Or hair gel, but, considering the venue, Rodney knew which one got his vote.

"Damn, now it's all over Johnny."

Rodney had been trying once more to move along, to mind his own business, but that brought him up short. The major had named his penis? Ok, that wasn't surprising, he was obviously a guy, but he'd named it after himself? Ok, not surprising again, but without a diminutive? Odd. Unconsciously patting his own penis, Rodney added another mark to the negative column of the major and Little Rodney ever being compatible.

Sheppard was ineffectually swiping at the front of his pants, spreading the problem further. He sighed. "This is what I get for thinking about McKay while trying to get ready."

Rodney's eyebrows tried to join his hairline. Sheppard had been thinking about him while he did that? Now that Rodney considered it, an unusual choice in penile nomenclature wasn't an insurmountable impediment.

That low drawl continued, irritation shortening his vowels further. "Damn. Everyone's going to figure what I'm doing, and I'm in enough trouble with Sumner as it is."

Rodney had to agree that Sumner did seem to dislike the major, though he suspected that might have something to do with how much hair Sheppard had in relation to the colonel, but he couldn't see Sumner really thinking less of Sheppard just because it was obvious he'd been masturbating.

Even if Sumner already had reason to suspect that Sheppard was playing for the home team, there was that stupid American rule of Don't Ask, Don't Tell, and that surely covered who someone was fantasizing about when they jacked off. So what did it matter if anyone figured it out?

But Rodney knew better than to expect logic out of the military. Pretty as he was, it was obvious the major wasn't the brightest grunt in the litter.

Before Rodney could follow that train of thought, or veer off on a new one, his cloak of invisibility wore out.

"What are you doing here, McKay?"

Rodney knew he could leave now, as he should have before, and maybe nothing more would ever come out of this. Or he could take matters into his own hands. So to speak.

Heart in his throat, palms sweating, though that might have been something besides his anxiety, he approached the major, amazed at his own daring. "I couldn't help but overhear. About your problem."

John lips quirked down, one brow raised. "Yeah, I'm sure you couldn't help it, hiding behind my door like that. The question is, are you going to tell anyone?"

Rodney was quick to reassure him, smiling his best comforting smile. "No, no. I won't say a word."

The other eyebrow went up now. Rodney never had been all that good at comforting. But the brows came down, a surprised smile lighting the major's face. "Thanks, McKay. I take back all the bad things I've been thinking about you. Even the one where I was cursing you for keeping me in the lab so long that I didn't have time to work out how to get all of my stuff to Atlantis. Of course, I already paid for that one, considering the state my distraction left my pants in. Not to mention my hair gel."

Rodney's eyes were tracking those lips, but he wasn't really hearing what they were saying, as he psyched himself up. The sight of the major's tongue, pink tip darting out to touch the bow as he paused in whatever he was saying, was the trigger, and Rodney shot into action, his own lips and tongue coming into play in an explosive kiss.

Which wasn't returned.

But then, with a hitch of breath, was. Lips were moving, tongues making tentative gestures that grew bold, demanding, deepening. It was the type of kiss other kisses wanted to be when they grew up.

Except then it was over, the major pulling back, confusion all over his flushed face. "What was that for? 'Cause just because I'm grateful that you're not ratting me out over the smuggling doesn't mean I'm just going to roll over for you."

Rodney was still reeling from the kiss. He felt a strong impulse to check that he still had his tonsils, until he remembered that he hadn't had them since he was twelve, but still. Then what the major said finally registered. "Smuggling?"

"Yeah, the smuggling. The thing you said you wouldn't tell anyone about." Sheppard reached into his pants now, pulling something out. But, much to Rodney's disappointment, it was only a tube of rolled up paper; a poster. "Damn hair gel got all over Johnny here."

Oh. Hair gel. So he'd been wrong. It happened. Once or twice. But the man had returned his kiss, had returned it really, really well, so Rodney hadn't been that far off. Only... "Johnny?"

That got him a big grin, and an unrolling of the poster. "Yeah. Couldn't go to a whole other galaxy without the Man in Black, could I?"

Rodney had never been the hippest of music connoisseurs, not that he was really sure that Johnny Cash would qualify anyway, but even he could recognize the reference. And the picture. "So... you have a poster of Johnny Cash in your pants... with some hair gel?"

He didn't even try to keep the 'Are you crazy or something' tone out of his voice, but the major wasn't fazed in the least. Which just figured, considering the man was carrying around hair care products and pictures of dead musicians in his pants.

"Yeah."

Rodney waited, but even after a full minute, it still didn't make any sense. It was sad, because the kiss had been great, but they really weren't going to be compatible. Rodney had already dated more than his fair share of crazy people, no sense in adding to his collection. Though that kiss... well, maybe Rodney was just missing some data. "Why do you have hair gel and a poster down your pants?"

Sheppard sighed, as if he were dealing with an idiot. Rodney just managed not to smack him.

"Because we're only supposed to have one personal item, and see, there's this football game, which you have just got to see..."

"Huh." Rodney felt like shaking his head. It was so sad, really. The man was certainly pretty, but definitely dim. "You actually listened to them when they said one personal item?

Which earned him an assessing look, one that seemed to lay him bare. "Yeah, didn't you?"

Rodney nodded eagerly. "Oh, yes, of course. One personal item for every square inch I could pack it in. You see there's this hockey game..." He snorted. "Idiot."

Instead of shrinking in shame at getting a verbal smack down from the dreaded Dr. McKay, terror of the Main... well, terror of SGC, anyway, Sheppard just grinned, eyes lighting up. It made them even more attractive, but Rodney pulled his mind away from that. Mostly.

With a deliberate slowness, the major moved to the door, shutting it firmly against any more voyeurs, which, belated as it was, Rodney had to admit was a good idea. Sheppard's voice was low, almost husky, pitched not to carry beyond the room. "So you figured out a way around the restriction?"

In the spirit of cooperation, and maybe getting some, Rodney also tried to keep his voice down, though being alone with the other man kept making his voice want to crack. "Of course. I have a brain the size of a planet."

Which just made the major smirk more. "Ok, Marvin, then why don't you let me in on the secret?"

Rodney watched the way the major's eyes, still watching him, had something playing behind them that hinted at a greater depth of thought than he'd shown up until now. It made blood that was already warming start to head towards more southern climes. He'd always had a weakness for hidden depths. But Rodney wasn't easy. Not that the major knew, anyway.

"Why should I? What's in it for me?"

The smirk was threatening to take over the major's face now, but Rodney couldn't be bothered to notice considering that the rest of the man's body seemed to be oozing sex, which slipped and slithered between them until Rodney was bound by it.

"Oh, I think I can make it worth your while."

It was a little like being hit by cold water, and Rodney pulled back. He hadn't thought the major was this mercenary. Sex with someone you barely knew was one thing, but, "You'd really have sex with me just to find out my smuggling secrets?"

John laughed, amusement playing across features still flushed with arousal. "No, but I'd really not tell anyone else that you have smuggling secrets if you shared them with me."

And Rodney felt his own amusement being tugged at that. It was still mercenary, but not as bad. Sort of. Rodney suspected that his chain was being yanked a little, too. And why waste time on that when there were far better things to be yanking. "It's a deal."

"Great." Sheppard paused, his eyes still staring into Rodney's, the pupils dilating further, shining darkly. "Now that that's out of the way, perhaps we should discuss the other thing."

No need to ask what the other thing was, as it was an almost palpable presence in the room , sitting between them like some kind of phallic pink elephant. And Rodney was all for dealing with it, but... "Discuss?"

Long, agile fingers moved to undo the buttons to Rodney's pants. "Well, something that involves a little give and take, anyway."

Rodney just nodded and tried to return the favor, but his own normally agile fingers had gone on strike, wanting to feel flesh rather than material, so he simply pulled the too loose pants down, earning himself a hiss and a smack on the ass as the waistband of the pants caught on swelling flesh. But Rodney didn't mind.

As the button gave way, pants falling to the floor, Rodney heard clanks and rustles that he normally didn't associate with cotton meeting linoleum, but he couldn't be bothered to ask what else the major had been trying to smuggle, far too intent on his prize.

He grasped the bared cock firmly, giving a slow swipe down its length, the movement slightly eased by traces of hair gel, which made Rodney smile. He took his time, using fingers, palm, and twist of wrist to good effect, wanting this to be great. His objective was slightly hindered when he felt an answering glide down his own cock, startling as well as exciting, causing him to squeeze too hard.

It gained him another hiss and another smack on the ass, which, in the interest of fairness, he was about to warn the major wasn't so much a deterrent as an incentive, but the hand on his ass moved lower, and the hand on his cock moved faster, and Rodney was feeling too good, his own hand a blur of motion; speed spiraling out, arousal spiraling out, self spiraling out.

Hands slowed, gentling, bodily liquids all returning to their normal places, except for the small volume that had escaped their bodies. Rodney's pants had been too close to the line of fire, and now they both had suspect stains to deal with. But Rodney couldn't really be bothered to care right now, far too happy to mind. Next time....

And he could tell by the goofy grin that was on the major's face that there would be a next time.

He was floating in a post-coital high, a brain that had already been prone to distraction flitting about like a butterfly on crack, when the sight of Sheppard trying to refasten his pants sans button brought something to mind.

Which, in Rodney's mood, meant it was brought to mouth. "What do you call your penis, Major?"

Sheppard wasn't thrown by the question in the least. "Yeah, how'd you guess?"

Rodney was confused until he remembered exactly what he'd asked, then he giggled, hoping desperately that it wasn't like a little girl. "Let me guess, it used to be named Captain."

"No, it used to be named Little John, but I kept having weird visions of merry men, so I had to change it. Plus, once I'd thought about it, naming your penis after yourself, especially with a diminutive, was kind of weird. What do you call yours?"

They'd finished cleaning up, pants as presentable as possible, and carrying only the things pants should. And Rodney's brain was still screening calls while it smoked a metaphorical cigarette, so he didn't have anything left to deflect the question with. Which left only the truth. "Oh, I like to call mine Faraday."

Well, the truth was subjective at the best of times, and keeping little Faraday happy was more important, anyway.

"Come on, McKay. You've got some secrets to share."

Rodney smiled. So he did.

/story


End file.
